Pink Shaded Love
by Lito Kid Skullington
Summary: dead
1. Love Struck

I really doubt that this has been done before. If it has, I apologize to the original author who came up with it. This section really disturbs me, and I didn't feel like searching through the many frightenly unnerving fics to see if I was being all creative. So, yeah. I'm trying to make something different, here. I'm probably going to offend a whole slew of people, but who really cares? Obviously not me, as I am writing this fic of perverseness. ^^  
  
So, here ya go.  
  
--~~*~~--  
  
The auditorium was packed to its limit. Most children practically sat on top each other in order to fit. The air inside the domed room was thick and hot, elevating the temperature to an uncomfortably stuffy level. Some kids were randomly falling over into convulsions from claustrophobia, and all others were practically suffocating.  
  
The principal of the school trotted up onto the stage in front of all the groaning, sweaty children, her face cheery despite the lawsuits she'd probably have to face for organizing this rally.  
  
"Welcome back to school, children!" she sung merrily into the microphone, her Irish lilt shrill to the ears of already suffering children. "Whoo, it's a bit warm in here," she noted quietly, wiping a hand over her forehead. "Ah, well." She again raised her voice to a shrieking level. "This year's gonna be a great one! I can just feel it! We have many exciting things planned for you! You'll just love it!"  
  
She continued to drawl on and on as her students continued to pass out. Far in the back, pressed up against a wall, sat Timmy Turner. He groaned, shifting against the weight of his surrounding classmates, attempting to find a more comfortable position. His arm was already pinned between his side and the wall in an inhuman position, almost twisted to the point of serious injury. He could feel bruises developing on bruises, sharp angles of children's elbows and knees stabbing into him. He let out a long wail lost among the countless other cries of miserable kids.  
  
"Guys," he whispered harshly to his pink and green shoelaces, "You gotta help me get some air, or I'm gonna die!"  
  
"What do you want us to do about it?" Wanda asked indignantly, "We're stuck too! There's no room to move in here!" With a swing of her rose-colored eyes, she motioned to the large kid in front of them, who was practically sitting on Timmy's foot. "If we try to lift out wands, we'll touch him! Besides, there's nothing magical we can do without exposing ourselves to 20 other kids in this cramped place."  
  
Timmy whimpered as his face was crushed against the wall. "I feel like my lungs are being pummeled with a hammer every time I try to breathe!" he gasped.  
  
"I feel like I have two hundred pounds of butt crushing my spleen!" Cosmo said cheerfully. He glanced up, noticing for the first time the large kid was planted on his middle. "Wow! I DO have two hundred pounds of butt crushing my spleen! My brain is working!" He grinned proudly to his pink lacey counterpart. She merely rolled her eyes.  
  
Far off in another corner near the stage, the pastel pink form of Cupid hovered, grinning from ear to ear. Beneath him sat two children, who had become suggestively positioned during the rush to pack everyone in. The girl blushed lightly as she and the boy whose lap she was sharing continued on their conversation. The two children were taking advantage of the slightly uncomfortable placing to get to know one another.  
  
But, as the time passed, their words slowly grew increasingly flirtatious. Cupid knew this was his time to strike. Reaching swiftly over his shoulder, he drew his golden bow. Grasping it in one hand and a heart-speared arrow in the other, he pulled the line taut, aiming.  
  
"They'll make the cutest couple!" he giggled to himself, his feathery wings flapping with glee. But, just as he was about to let the love arrow fly, the door behind him swung open, smashing him and several children, including the flirty duo, into the wall behind it. "Noooo -- !" he screamed through his pain, the arrow's designated target thrown off even as he released. It flew, unchecked, flimsily into the back of the crowd.  
  
Right into the ass of Timmy Turner. The unfortunate child had managed to turn around, and had been attempting to pull his Cosmo lace out from under the chunky kid through a crawling technique when he was struck. The force of the hit spun him back around, twisting his ankle painfully and causing the green shoelace to let out a squawk.  
  
Timmy moaned softly, his world spinning around him. He vaguely heard Wanda questioning his condition, but her voice was distorted, as if she were contained in a can. The bright lights of the stage glistened before him like fireflies through the dusk, glowing softly within the haze of his vision. He felt like he was falling, the mass of children around him a huge shadow of blackness threatening to swallow him up.  
  
Then, he saw him. An inhumanly thin form strode onto the stage, all but glowing with heroism, brighter than the hazy lights of the stage. His light shone through the room, throwing the shadows surrounding Timmy into a frenzy as they shrieked. And then they were gone. Defeated by the light. Timmy found he could breathe again, the haze diffusing from his sight. He felt a warm feeling bubble up within him, a newfound feeling of affection towards his hero.  
  
"Who . . . is that?" he asked dreamily. He could practically feel his eyes shaping themselves into hearts. Wanda raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"That wonderful man on stage . . . " Timmy whispered, pointing a shaky finger in his direction.  
  
"We still can't see, Timmy!" Wanda cried indignantly.  
  
"Oh, okaaay . . . "  
  
"Mr. Crocker, please!" the principal's voice rang out from the stage.  
  
"Fairy! I whiffed. A FAIRY!"  
  
The children packed into the auditorium were shrieking with joy as they poured out the newly opened door, without any regard for those who had been squashed behind it by Crocker's entry.  
  
"It's in here! I know it's in here!" Crocker screamed, swinging his fairy- detector around madly. "My equipment NEVER LIES!"  
  
"Denzel, please!" the principal cried, barely managing to dodge the scanning device. "I'm trying to govern a rally here! I'm in no mood for your --" she paused, turning her gaze from the spazzing teacher to the audience. Or lack of one.  
  
They had all streamed out the door beside the stage, and their thanks to Mr. Crocker for releasing them echoed throughout the hallways. She frowned, fuming.  
  
"Now, see what you did! It took forever to get them all in here, and now! Look! Only that drooling little pink-hatted boy is left!" She was looking as if she might pop a vein when suddenly, she underwent an abrupt mood swing. Grinning, she continued. "Oh well, guess we'll have to break away from tradition and start the school year without a rally this time!"  
  
Mr. Crocker nodded absently, still scanning the room. "I know they're in -- " His device began beeping rabidly, and he looked up from the gridded screen. "Aha! Turner! I should've known!" Stabbing a finger at Timmy, who's eyes were glazed over as he stared at him, Crocker screamed, "The boy has fairies. IN HIS SHOES! And once I get a hold of his. FAIRY! GOD! PARENTS! I can --"  
  
"Yes, yes, we've all heard it before. Just go back to your classroom and resume your teaching."  
  
Muttering something devious under his breath, Crocker reluctantly obeyed. "Come on, Turner," he grumbled, addressing Timmy out of the corner of his eye, "I'll get to you and your fairies later." With that, he stalked out the autitorium doors, closely followed by a pink-clad boy with a assembly of little floating hearts trailing behind him.  
  
--~~*~~--  
  
To be continued . . .  
  
--~~*~~--  
  
Yep. All lines after, "My equipment never lies!" were written in a rush, so forgive me. And shut up. Yes, one-sided Timmy/Crocker. Oh, just you wait. It gets much better. Or . . . worse, as some opinions may see it. Yes. Review. Open flames are accepted. Intelligible and otherwise. I want your honest to God opinion on this. Even if it means stuff like, "omg, Croker & Timy no way!!!!!11one u suk mak smthng better w/ ur life rite Timmy/Trixie plz!!!11"  
  
Yes, I am accepting mindless flamers. Honest to God opinions people.  
  
'Till the next brain meat frying chapter . . . 


	2. Doodles

Sorry, this chaper's painfully short.  
  
--~~*~~--  
  
Mr. Crocker sighed, wistfully turning over a pencil in his hand. He stared blankly down on the sheet of paper before him, lost in thought. The room was deathly silent, as all children were frantically trying to complete the pop quiz he'd assigned to them. The only sounds were the sharp, abrupt strokes of lead on paper, and the distant ticking of the clock.  
  
"Let's see," the abnormally thin teacher muttered to himself, bringing the pencil he'd been fondling down to meet the paper, "How can I gain possession of Turner's shoes . . . without him realizing it?" Idly, he doodled a little sneaker in the corner. After a moment, he added his usual stick-figure fairy, its blank face poking out of the shoe. "Maybe," he mused softly to himself, "when he takes them off in the gym room . . ."  
  
There was a short pause, his pencil hovering, prepared to sketch out his plans. But it abruptly faltered, his palm falling dejectedly to rest.  
  
"No, no, that won't work," he reprimanded himself, "I need something more tactful. More subtle. More . . ." He cried out suddenly as a Scantron flickered across his line of view. Indignantly, he followed it up to the hand, then arm of the impudent child who dared disturb his thoughts.  
  
"I'm finished with that quiz, Mr. Crocker!" A.J proclaimed proudly, a smug grin on his face, "I do believe I'm the first one. This gives you an advantage, as it is undoubtedly easier to grade a perfect test than --"  
  
"Yeeesss, Mr. A.J. I am fully aware of your I.Q level, as well as your constant need to gain the compliments (and jealousy) of others. However," Crocker paused, rising to his full height and looming menacingly over the desk, "If you were as bright and observant as you claim, you would've realized that I am very OCCUPIED! At this moment, and would've then realized it'd be wise NOT TO DISTURB ME!" He glared angrily down at the boy, then sharply gestured to the class, "Please return to your seat and wait submissively for further instruction like the other students."  
  
A.J reluctantly obeyed, scurrying to his desk feeling both insulted and afraid. Crocker glared after him until he was seated, then turned back to his sketch. He plucked up his pencil, one again prepared to scribble out his master plan. But still, no ideas came to mind.  
  
He growled in frustration, glancing angrily over at Timmy. It was then he realized the boy was staring at him, sky-blue eyes glazed over, chin resting in his upturned palms. He blinked, bewildered.  
  
"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Turner?" he asked slowly, raising an eyebrow. Timmy grinned, unblinking.  
  
"I love how you say 'Mr. Turner'," the boy drawled, his voice a drunken slur, a crooked smile on his face. Crocker became more than a little disturbed, and tried to ignore him.  
  
'That suffocating rally must've taken more out of the kids than I imagined,' the teacher thought, shuffling idly through his doodles, stiff beneath Timmy's unfaltering gaze.  
  
After a few minutes of this, Mr. Crocker was sure he was going to go insane. He wanted to scream at the strange, fairy-bearing child to STOP STARING AT HIM, but something always stilled his tongue. Just as he felt he might explode, the recess bell rang. He'd never heard a more joyous sound.  
  
"Alright, class," he said, trying to keep his voice stern, "Go out and play your little games while I slave away failing your tests."  
  
The students obeyed, spilling out of the room in a rush, trampling some fellow classmates underfoot. They poured down the halls in a pack, like a roaring river, their voices growing fainter as distance increased, until finally the room lapsed into silence.  
  
Crocker sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "Finally, some time alone so I can gather my --"  
  
"Oooo, we're . . . alone,"  
  
The thin teacher sat up abruptly, almost tipping over his desk. Timmy still sat at his desk, grinning idiotically at him. Would it never end . . . ?  
  
--~~*~~--  
  
Once again, a terribly rushed ending. I'm sorry, guys. I need some inspiration for this. I have it planned out, but I'm having some troubles writing it. The first chapter was written right after I watched "Abra- Catastrophe", a good source of Fairly Odd inspiration. But now I've run dry. They need more Crocker-centric episodes, demmit. 


	3. The Scantron Reveals It

Happy Valentine's day, all. This chapter's quick, because I really want to move thing's along. So, prepare yourself for lots of dialogue and poor description! Yay!  
  
--~~*~~--  
  
Growling under his breath, Crocker glared towards the pink-hatted boy, narrowing his eyes behind the glasses. "Are you finished with your test, Turner?" he questioned sharply, drumming his fingers impatiently along the edge of the desk. Timmy's tongue made itself known through the corner of his mouth, and he tilted his head slightly.  
  
"Uh huh..." was his absentminded reply, his half-lidded eyes never moving from the thin teacher's face.  
  
Crocker frowned, gritting his teeth. "Then please turn it in. I have a lot of grading to do; I don't have time for socializing."  
  
Timmy nodded slowly, pushing his chair away from his desk and unsteadily stumbling to his feet. His hand blindly groped for the edge of the desk for support, finally positioning itself right on top of a rosy pink eraser.  
  
"Hey!" Wanda squawked under her breath, wincing, "Watch where you're leaning!" She glared up at Timmy, a mixture of frustration and concern in her eyes. "What's wrong with you? You're acting drunk!" she demanded as forcibly as she could in a whisper.  
  
"Drunken with loooooove..." Timmy drawled, his pupils once again taking the shape of a heart. He hugged his test close against him, smiling brightly and all but floating in his bliss.  
  
"Love?" questioned his green pencil, eyebrows furrowing. He took a quick glance around the empty student desks. "But, there's no one in here to be in love with!"  
  
A rare moment, indeed. Cosmo was correct... for the most part. "Oh, honey, that rally must've messed up your senses. Maybe you should take a break outside."  
  
Cosmo gasped, rolling over to face his eraser-y counterpart. "Oh no! What if Timmy is in love with --?!"  
  
"Are you turning that test in or what?" Crocker demanded impatiently, silencing both godparents.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Crocker," Timmy said joyfully, gliding over on the fluffy pink clouds and clusters of beating red hearts. He let out a contented sigh as he held up the Scantron, smiling as charmingly as he could manage with his imperfect teeth.  
  
Crocker glared bewilderedly down at him, raising an eyebrow slightly before reaching forward to snatch the test away. "Thank you, Turner. Now, go play outside. I have much scheming to do."  
  
Just as Crocker's finger's closed over the paper, Timmy's other hand quickly rushed up to meet them. His fingertips briefly brushed over the back of his teacher's hand, and a hot rush of blood rose to his ears. He giggled mindlessly, sighing, "Now my day has been made..."  
  
Now it was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable. Crocker quickly withdraw his hand, rubbing it defensively. "Yes, I'm sure," he muttered, pursing his lips, "Now, please leave!"  
  
Timmy finally obeyed, floating back to his desk and sweeping his pink and green supplies into his pocket. "I'll be back after recess!" he gleefully proclaimed, finally trotting across the checkered floor and taking his leave.  
  
Crocker sighed heavily, cupping his forehead in his hand and leaning heavily upon it. He glanced down at answer key Timmy had given him. Drawn within the bubble-in circles was a large heart, with the letters "D" and "T" inside of it, connected by a plus sign. D and T...  
  
"Holy fairy dust!" Crocker cried, flinging the paper down onto his desktop like a used tissue. "Turner has a crush... ON ME!" There was a slight pause, as the initial disgust and confusion left him. A wicked smile crossed his face. "Perhaps I can use this to my advantage... in my quest to obtain Turner's FAIRY GODPARENTS! All I have to do is play along..."  
  
--~~*~~--  
  
I'm really abusing this new elipses thing. Hee. Well... mmmyep. There it is. Crocker knows, now all I have to do is move it along to Cosmo and Wanda. Much fun to be had. Keep flaming me, I'll be pissed off for the first five minutes and then I will laugh. LAUGH! In your faces. 


	4. Dirty Bathrooms and Lab Mice

Wow, I'm actually updating this one. Kinda. Well, consider this a Filler Chaper until I find a good source of inspiration for this thing. This chapter's split in half; the first part is just a little experiment, to see how well my new idea goes over with the fans. The second half is a is a horribly quick thing (actually pertaining to the storyline ;) ) that is only there to move the fic along. Yeah. Okay, read on.

* * *

Veronica sighed, leaning heavily on the sink edges and gazing mournfully into the smudgy glass of the bathroom mirror. Slowly, she brought a hand up to her forehead, lightly brushing back her ever present lock of lemon- blonde hair, fully exposing her face for scrutiny. Indeed, she was exceedingly pretty, as was the requirement for popular cheerleader-type girls, but it wasn't the pretty she aspired to be. Those damned icy blue eyes, eyelashes thick and heavy with mascara to try and hide their wideness. Oh, how she longed for perfect, almond shaped eyes. For long, flowing ebony locks to replace her thin and pathetic ponytail of blonde. For a tiny, cute button nose to replace her blah blah not Trixie blah...  
  
As she continued to angst silently within her head, her eyes began to stray from her lack of Tangy-perfection. The not-so-perky cheerleader soon became aware of another presence looming over her shoulder, a small lump of black clothing reflected in the corner of the mirror. She sighed again, this time out of frustration. She should've expected this in the _unpopular_ student bathroom. Some normal, ugly girl would be rendered motionless by the sheer shock of a popular, superior being in the regular dirty bathrooms. This was her only haven from the constant demeaning aura of Trixie Tang, however. The only place no sane cheerleader would set foot in. But, she couldn't tell this not-popular child that! She was trying frantically to conjure up an excuse when they spoke.  
  
"I know what troubles you..." the short black thing said, their voice seemingly too deep and gravelly to be female. Veronica turned sharply to face them, eyebrows knitted together with irritation and anger.  
  
"What are you talking about, loser?" she demanded haughtily, her arms pressed tightly to her sides with hands balled up in fists. Wow, the person really was ugly. Just one big ball of dark; black clothes, brown skin, nasty purple hair. The only distinguishing evidence of gender was a slight bulge that deformed the scary-looking man on her shirt. She grimaced, praying desperately that no one else would enter and see her chatting with a geek.  
  
There was a slight pause before the short black figure spoke again. "I know of your feelings towards Trixie," she said softly, eyes focused and unblinking. Veronica faltered, despite herself.  
  
"W-What do you mean?" she managed to squeak, unable to keep the superior edge to her voice. How could this little loser know? Was it that obvious? She tried so hard to hide her desperate aspiration to Trixie-ness from everyone! So how could a freak like her find out? '_Maybe she's a stalker! She probably followed me home and saw my Trixie shrine...!_'  
  
A grin sliced across the girl's tanned face, teeth inhumanly sharp and yellowed. "You try to smother it down, but I am well-trained and am able to see even the tiniest hints," With a clink of unseen jewelry, the girl jabbed a finger in Veronica's face, taking a victorious stance. "**I KNOW YOU LOVE TRIXIE TANG**!" she shrieked, unable to contain her glee.  
  
Veronica's eyes widened to an almost painful size, jaw dropping. For a split second, she could only gasp fruitlessly for air, lips working like a fish's. Abruptly, her shock turned to pure unbridled fury. "What are you taking about?! I don't love her, I want to be her! There's a difference!"  
  
"Not the way I see it!" The girl's grainy voice had become singsong. Her eyes pinched joyfully shut, smile overtaking all facial features. "And I'm gonna share my discovery with the **WORLD**!"  
  
Before Veronica could fully register what she'd just heard, the little black thing dashed out of the bathroom, the door left swinging open in her wake revealing many students had overheard their conversation, and were peering in with curiosity. A hot red blush spread across Veronica's perfectly pale cheeks, her head swimming with many confusing emotions. Finally, she decided to act on the one she was most familiar with: **RAGE**.  
  
"Come back here, you little -- !" She tore off after the giggling dark child, a homicidal anger bubbling in her stomach. Her fellow students gazed after them for a moment, shrugged, and carried on with their meaningless childhood.

* * *

"Timmy, are you sure you're okay?" Wanda asked gently, her voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her godchild's pocket. "That's the third light pole you've run into since you left the classroom!"  
  
Timmy laughed drunkenly as he stumbled away from the pole, a dent left in the wake of his buckteeth. "Of course! The next pole could be a cactus, for all I care! Nothing could ruin my bliss!"  
  
Wanda frowned, poofing herself into a fly and promptly buzzing around Timmy's head. "I'm serious, Timmy! You're starting to scare me." Her insect- y brow furrowed with concern. Her green counterpart soon appeared beside her.  
  
"Timmy's always scared me!" he cried obliviously, smiling. "But, then again... doesn't everything?" Swiftly, he buzzed around and dived beneath the security of Timmy's ever-present pink hat. The little green antennae poking out beneath the brim were the only evidence of Cosmo's existence. Wanda merely rolled her eyes.  
  
"Seriously, Timmy," she continued, perching lightly on the boy's nose, "If anything is troubling you, you need to tell me!"  
  
Timmy paused from his lovesick stroll through the playground, eyes crossing as he looked down at Wanda. "If you really want to know..." he began, smiling crookedly, "Then I wish you would take me someplace private! Like my room!"  
  
"We can't just poof you outta school, Timmy, you know that. That would be considered ditching."  
  
Timmy frowned. "Well, then I wish school was excused for the day!"  
  
Cosmo whizzed out form beneath the pink cap. "Ooo! Ooo! I can do this one!" he cried, waving his wand before anyone could protest.  
  
A shrill scream emerged from within the school, and the principal promptly burst through the doors, her beehive hairstyle swarming with little white mice.  
  
"Apparently, two squabbling girls accidentally broke into our storage of **LAB MICE**!" she screamed, tearing frantically at her orange curls. "The school is being evacuated for fumigation!"  
  
A little girl's eyes promptly filled with tears, and she questioned softly, "They're killing the mice?"  
  
Waxelplex furiously shook her head, both to answer the girl and to try and shake out the little rodents. "No! The girls!"  
  
As if on cue, everyone was thrown into a panic. Students rushed away into oncoming traffic to escape the mice and crazy girls. The whole school was chaos.  
  
Cosmo grinned nervously. "I.. meant it to go a lot smoother than that." he admitted, hoping his charm would quell any sadistic urges his wife may have felt towards him. Wanda just sighed and raised her wand.  
  
"Let's just get outta here before they start the fumes."  
  
With a wave of the star-tipped stick, they vanished, unseen among the screaming children and bloody car accidents.

* * *

Whoo! The last half SUCKED. Oh well. Feedback on the first part would be nice. It's the main reason I posted this.Yeah, the short black thing was me. 


	5. Confession

* * *

Whoo hoo! More crap for you to wade through! Thanks to all who responded to the Veronica/Trixie musings explelled back there. At least 3 people will support this coupling, so I'm runing with it. Expect a new hideous FOP romance fic from me soon! My first femmeslash attempt since Devi/Tess. Whoo. Anyways, back to the present... here, have some Timmy-Godparent **DRAMA**. (oooo)

* * *

A flood of pink smoke spilled over the boards of Timmy's room, soon revealing said child and godparents. A sigh gushed from Timmy's lungs, and he flopped backwards onto the plush covers of his bed, gazing absentmindedly at the cracking blue paint of the ceiling. Blue... like Crocker's eyes. No wait, his eyes were black. But if the animators had given those gorgeous eyes color, it would've been blue...

Wanda groaned softly as she gazed out the window, exasperated at her husband's rash use of magic. The fumigation was obviously underway, as the entire school was cloaked in a purple and yellow striped covering. These colors provided an ironically cheerful background to all the twisted metal and carnage of the accidents. She shuddered, pulling down the blinds and floating into her godchild's line of view. "Well, we're home now," she breathed sardonically, glancing down at Timmy, whose eyes now glossed over from a lack of blinkage. "So, are you going to tell us what's wrong?"

An impish grin split across his face, and Timmy giggled mindlessly as he hugged his pillow close. "I'm in **love**, Wanda!" he purred, a rush of pink tingeing his cheeks.

The green-haired fairy let out a whoop, waving his arms erratically. "I knew it!" Cosmo squealed gleefully, "Let's cater a party!" Wanda groaned.

"Is that all?" she asked, obviously aggravated, "I could've guessed as much." She sighed, gently fingering the skin of her forehead. "Oh well, as long as we're here with nothing better to do, we might as well discuss it."

"Is it Trixie?" Cosmo demanded, swooping into his godchild's face, "Ooo, I bet it's Trixie! Prove me right, Timmy! I've rarely been right _twice_ in a row!"

Timmy continued smiling drunkenly, pushing himself unsteadily into a sitting position. "Sorry Cosmo. It's not Trixie."

"Aww," Cosmo whined, his lower lip making itself known in a pout. Wanda raised an eyebrow.

"Whoa, really? That's a surprise." she muttered, recalling last year's Trixie-fixation. She quivered before returning to the topic at hand. "So, who is she?"

Timmy let out a _squee!_ of utter bliss before replying, "I think you mean 'he'."

That caught the pink fairy off guard. Her face paled significantly as she stared, incredulous, at her godchild. "H-he?" she stammered, unable to regain her composure. "T-Timmy, don't you think -- "

She was interrupted by a squeal of glee from her husband. "Oh Timmy, it's so **cute** that you're gay! Tell me who he is! Tell me who he is!" Cosmo begged. He paused, then with a poof of green a tape recorder appeared in his hand. Immediately thrusting it into Timmy's face, he added, "And speak slowly and clearly, for future (adopted) generations!"

Wanda pushed her green counterpart out of the way, waving her wand and lifting Timmy into the air beside her.

"Now Timmy, as your godparent I am required to support you in your every delusional action..." she began, her voice quivering with anxiety, "but this time I really feel the need to protest. While homosexual relationships are being more widely accepted in the world, I don't think it healthy for you to engage in these practices so early in life. There are children at school who'd become prejudiced against you should they find out... you could get bullied to a hazardous point for both your physical and emotional well-being. I just don't feel you're mature enough to handle this sort of change..."

"Wanda, are you homophobic?" Cosmo blurted, recoiling timidly from his wife as if he'd been slapped. Wanda furiously shook her head.

"No no, it's not that at all! I'm just afraid of how this is going to affect things... he's just too young for this kind of -- "

"I am not too young and I am not immature!" Timmy interrupted, his love-sick emotion quickly abandoned for indignation. "This isn't just some school boy crush! This is serious! I can feel it! We have potential! We're going to make something of each other, you'll see!"

Timmy leapt from his bed, snatching up his book bag and glaring up as his godparents. "If you won't accept my love... **THEN I WISH I WAS AT MR. CROCKER'S PLACE**!"

"C-C-**CROCKER**?!" Wanda shrieked. That was about all her feeble mind could bear. All went black for the curly haired fairy, leaving only Cosmo to wave his wand and grant the wish.

* * *

I've been trying to hide it, but I don't particularly like Wanda. Never have. And now, with her 'omg no one will like you are you stupid or wut?' lecture to Timmy... I'm beginning to hate her. Ah well, at least things went better for Timmy than they did fer me. REVEIWS PLEASE, AS I WHORE MY FICS FOR THEM.


End file.
